Tag: dog bite

It was an absolutely spectacular day filled with more blessings than I can count.

And today, two days later, I am still filled with such enormous gratitude and wonder, that words are failing me.

Why yes, I do still have PMS. How’djyaknow? Stay away from my chocolate, bitch.

But I know you’re dying for some details, so I think I’ll just give you a quick rundown in the form of a list. Here it is…

My Top Ten Reasons Why Saturday Rocked:

10. My husband, The Gatekeeper, cleaned the kitchen within an inch of its life Saturday morning. It was spotless and the counter tops were freakishly clutter-free. I don’t even care that I’ll be spending the next three weeks trying to find all the shit he stashed.

9. I never got around to ordering a cake for the party. But lo and behold, there was a chocolate quarter sheet cake with buttercream frosting at Publix Saturday afternoon just waiting for us to add “Congratulations Mini-Me.” Thank you, Publix, for planning ahead for mothers like me who don’t.

8. My friend Kathy who met me for a quick cuppa coffee on Friday and made me feel less guilty about not having any decorations or party favors: “Mini-Me is your decoration!”

7. Coming home from mass to a house that was not burned to the ground after I accidentally left my curling iron plugged in and resting on the edge of the bathtub. The worst part? It dawned on me as we were on our way TO the church, “Did I unplug the curling iron? Oh my God, I don’t think I did!” So I had to sit through the entire mass with the most loquacious priest ever, sweating more than I usually do, wondering and praying and trying my damnedest to not let the undercurrent of panic prevent me from being fully present. It. Was. Torture.

6. Seeing my lovely daughter all clean and gorgeous and truly excited about receiving this special sacrament.

5. Eating my sister-in-law’s homemade Italian cooking and listening to the golden silence of all our guests as they reveled in the deliciousness.

4. Having Mini-Me’s best friend from her preschool (who we don’t get to see nearly enough) arrive for the party in her prettiest dress and bearing the heartfelt gift of an “Angel of Best Friends” figurine.

3. The weather was perfect and The Rapture didn’t occur after all, which would have been a real buzz kill. Nothing spoils a party faster than fire and brimstone. Well, that and my crazy drunk uncle who likes to ignite his farts with a cigarette lighter. He wasn’t invited though.

2. Miraculously completing the slideshow (with only minor technical difficulties) as my gift to Mini-Me, even though my laptop went haywire after several routine software upgrades last week and I haven’t been able to use iTunes or iPhoto since. Listening to our guests roar with laughter upon seeing dozens of pictures of Mini-Me covered in makeup, and pudding, and finger paint, all to the tune of Superfreak, was music to my exhausted ears.

1. Receiving the certified letter from the county Saturday afternoon right before we left for church stating the verdict of Ike’s dog-bite hearing last Thursday night: NOT GUILTY!

It’s never good when a police cruiser appears in your driveway. Just sayin’.

So yesterday afternoon, the second day of Spring break, when I was hanging by my last nerve, trying to gather three uncooperative kids to run to the grocery store, the last thing I needed was to deal with the Po-Po.

Frankly, I knew we were living on borrowed time.

But let me back up a bit.

A few weeks ago I became acquainted with a charming new Internet friend, Erin. I commented on her blog, she commented on my blog, yada yada yada, and the next thing I knew, I was devouring information about the all-natural Shaklee cleaning products she sells. The stuff sounded incredible and I just had to have some. An order was placed. A box was shipped.

Very loyal dogs like to protect their people from threatening things like noisy delivery trucks and strangers dressed in brown uniforms carrying large boxes.

For legal reasons, I cannot divulge any details, but long story short, the courier beat Ike in my front yard with a long black stick and Ike allegedly bit the courier.

I do not know what happened first, the biting or the beating.

I only witnessed the beating, not the biting. And it was a horrendous sight and sound to behold, let me tell you.

But it doesn’t matter in the eyes of Animal Control. It doesn’t matter that the courier was inside my invisible fence line. It doesn’t matter that she was beating my dog with a large stick and that he was yelping in agony with every whack.

All that matters to Johnny Law is that Ike (allegedly) bit someone. Period.

Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, let the record show that Ike has never bitten anyone before this alleged incident.

The following photo is graphic in nature and intended for mature audiences only. Please look away if you do not have a strong constitution.

This is what it typically looks like when Ike attacks:

Help! Help! A dingo is eating my baby!!!!

Luckily I was there to save that poor child from being licked within an inch of his life.

Here is another example of Ike’s aggressive behavior (with a slightly less appealing angle):

Help! Somebody save me!!!

The courier sought medical treatment due to the alleged dog bite and did not go to work the next day. I know this because I made numerous phone calls to inquire about her well being. My family and I certainly hope that she feels better and are praying for her speedy recovery.

But apparently, anytime someone seeks medical attention for an alleged dog bite, the authorities are summoned.

Hence the unannounced visit from the Sheriff’s department yesterday afternoon.

There was a lengthy interview. I had to write a statement. The deputy took photographs of my yard, the “Invisible Fence” sign by my mailbox, and of Ike.

I was apprised of my rights and of the county laws regarding dog bites. Shockingly, even though Ike’s rabies vaccination is valid until 2013, the law states that he must be quarantined for 10 days, at my expense.

I had until 5:00 PM to surrender him to the authorities.

The kids and I loaded Ike, his dog food, and a favorite blanket into the van and drove him over to our vet’s office where he will be closely supervised in solitary confinement until the end of his quarantine period.

Turning him over to the vet just about broke my heart in two. I haven’t cried that hard in a long time.